


Never us

by Writelikethat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arguments, Auror Harry Potter, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, Fights, M/M, Making Up, Misunderstandings, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 02:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writelikethat/pseuds/Writelikethat
Summary: I feel incredibly insecure about posting a HP fic. I have read quite a few and I am impressed at the well written stories out there, both the plots and the level of vocabulary and word magic. My language lacks , I know, but i hope it's not too annoying and that someone might enjoy this anyway.Feel free to kudos or comment.:)





	Never us

Draco seethed on his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He glared at the dirty dishes and sent mugs and plates flying into the sink with enough force to break. He sneered and followed up with a reparo much too powerful. The two plates and two cups ended up ‘repaired’ into one mangled porcelain cup. 

Draco was too busy making the papers and files fly from the table and into a neat stack to notice. Only, they didn’t really end up in a neat stack as much as shuffle with too much flurry, ending up on the floor next to their kitchen table. 

He muttered a curse and turned his back to make his way into the living room. The mess wasn’t his problem anyway. He made a couple of laps back and forth in front of the fireplace and contemplated just heading off to the Manor. He could help his mother and stay away from home, it was a win-win. 

Only it wouldn’t be. It wouldn’t solve anything. Harry probably just needed a few hours of sleep, some food and then they could talk about it like adults. 

With that settled Draco headed back into the kitchen, ignoring the mess on the floor, fixing the porcelain creation and set to making a sandwich. He put it under a stasis charm and went back into the living room, trying to get some work done. 

 

The best part about his job, Draco thought, was that could do it from home. It had started out as a way to kill time while he were doing time on house arrest after the war. He’d wandered around the Manor, feeling trapped as ever, but also a little relieved not having to face everyone. So he started picking up stuff, looking at them, trying to decipher where they came from. Most of the stuff in their most frequently used rooms were harmless. Once in a while, though he would brush past something that made it run cold down his back. One time he even had to make quick work of it or it would have exploded. 

There were loads of cursed objects all around the Wizarding World, especially just after the war. Draco started to read about curses and how to reset them. After going through each room in the Manor and neutralizing the objects he could manage he started to work out a way to help others with the same. 

Sometimes he was expected to meet up at a house if they had bigger problems, but if the troubles were too big he would report it to the Ministry and they could handle it. 

Eventually the Ministry started to seek advice from him. Draco had become something of an expert on the matter so they opted to consult with him. When his house arrest were done, he was given a chance to work in the Ministry. Draco hadn’t taken the opportunity, to his mother’s great distress. He wanted to do something for himself. He already had something good going. People came to him for help, they brought objects to him, which he could work on in peace at home. 

Now, ten years later he had his own place in the back of their home where he could work undisturbed.

 

Harry showed his messy head about two hours later. Draco had heard him coming down the stairs of course, but he hadn’t moved from his place in the living room. Neutralizing cursed objects required very specific paperwork.   
Harry had the sandwich in one hand, mayo on the side of his mouth and a cup of steaming tea, which Draco originally had made for himself a few minutes ago. Sometimes he thought that if Draco didn’t take care of him, Harry would be living on crackers and cold tea.

He didn’t look up and after a moment Harry sat down on the couch. The quiet felt heavy, but Draco was determined to ignore it. 

“Draco, I’m… I didn’t mean to sound so grumpy earlier.” Harry began after finishing his sandwich. He was now working his way through Draco’s tea. 

“Draco, hey. Look at me.”

Draco schooled his face, put down his pen and raised his eyes to meet Harry’s. He forced his face to stay calm. Seeing Harry tired and wrung out wasn’t unusual. Sadly, it was fairly common, and today was no different. There were dark lines beneath his eyes and a bruise on the side of his neck, and not even the good kind of bruise, that Draco itched to heal. 

“It’s been a rough couple of days.” Harry admitted and Draco permitted a nod. 

Harry didn’t continue for a long time. His eyes showed a longing which had been present in Draco’s chest for well over a week. His heart made a little jump, though he told it sternly to stay out of it. 

“I understand. But, Harry. We… we already talked about this.”

Harry absently bit the inside of his lip. 

“Well, I-“

“You forgot, of course you did!” Draco snapped. 

Harry watched him with slightly hooded eyes and Draco refused to feel guilty. 

He knew that the case they worked on took a toll on Harry. Cases involving children always did. They hadn’t lost anyone this time, but children in danger and generally exposed to dark magic were one of the things Harry worked hardest on. And those were the ones leaving him drained.

“Why are you so mad about this?” Harry asked quietly. 

“Because it’s important.”

Harry ruffled his hair as he watched Draco with his annoyingly perceptive and patient eyes. Draco used to think that his staring was stupid and a sure sign he was an idiot. It had turned out that Harry actually took in a lot and waited for the right moment to whip out his knowledge about something. Or sometimes he actually just was an idiot.

“There was an event just like this not four weeks back.” He informed. 

Draco could feel his cheeks pink slightly. Anger or embarrassment, he couldn’t be sure. 

“Yes, well. This one is important.” 

“That’s what you always say.” Harry huffed. 

Draco filed his paperwork and sent it flying elegantly into his shoulder bag. 

“Because, to my mother, they always are.”

Harry looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but he had learned that one did not do that when Draco’s mother was involved. 

“Alright. How about this, I agree to come to her birthday, but tomorrow I’m busy?” He tried eventually. 

“Why are you so difficult about this?”

Draco knew all of Harry’s arguments. Too many people. He had to put on his formal robes. His hand got tired from having to shake everyone’s at the party. He hated being forced to say something. He would rather have tea and indian food. The list went on and on. And Draco understood them to some degree. 

“Harry. You knew this year would be very busy.”

“I never signed up for every single event just because it is the ten year anniversary for the war!” He grumbled. 

“Come on, we haven’t even been to half of them.”

“I will be there at Hogwarts on the last day of school, and I promised the Minister I would show up at the one at the end of summer. Everything in between is supposed to be my choice.”

“And it is. Only you are with me now. My mother is having these parties to ease all the bad energy in that house.”

“But what does that have to do with me?” Harry said and Draco wanted to pull his own hair. Instead he took a long breath. 

“Don’t you like my mother’s parties?”

“No. I don’t – “

Draco tried to ignore the stab of pain in his chest at those words. His mother worked hard. She had made some good in the name of Malfoy, and she deserved this. 

“So you hate my mother?”

“Oh my god, Draco. Of course not! Will you let me finish? You know I don’t like any of these parties. It has nothing to do with your mother. I don’t love going to Molly’s parties either!”

Draco got up from his chair. 

“Don’t lie to me, Harry!”

Harry fiddled with his glasses as he got up too. He declared he was too tired for this and muttered something about bed. Draco gritted his teeth, but let him go. They needed a breather. 

 

Draco stalled as he got ready for bed. A part of him was eager to get in there, he wanted to be close, no. He needed to be close to Harry. He wanted to hold him, feel him close to his body. It was far too long since they last enjoyed any intimate fun. Things had been rather busy lately, and even if Draco would have been more than happy to stay up a little later a few nights a week to get in a workout so to speak, Harry often fell asleep immediately. It stirred with his insecurities that Harry so easily could go for almost two weeks without reconnecting. 

Not that he could hide his bodily reactions. In the mornings, Draco had woken up on more than one occasion to Harry’s insistent erection pressing against his thigh or backside. And now they were fighting, a sure sign they were both on edge. 

 

Breakfast was a quiet, tense affair. Harry had woken up first and headed downstairs. The tea was ready, made perfectly to Draco’s tastes as were the waffles. They ate in silence, Harry flipping through the morning paper, and Draco overlooking his file, deciding on what object to begin with this morning. 

When Harry got up he let the dishes float into the sink. 

“See you tonight. I’ll be at the party.” He assured in a flat voice. 

Draco nodded and lifted his chin expectantly. Harry grabbed his Auror robes and walked down the hall. Without kissing Draco goodbye. He didn’t think that had happened once since becoming a couple. He stared after Harry and fought to ignore the stinging behind his eyes. 

 

Draco buried himself in work. He’d built a workshop in one of their rooms downstairs. It had a layer of protection charms as well as a system to detect an upcoming danger to notify him if he didn’t react in time. 

Draco worked well past lunch and then called it a day. He had promised to come and help his mother for a bit before people started to arrive. There was no sign of Harry so Draco decided he’d come back before the party started to see if they could clear the air. 

Narcissa watched Draco closely as he arrived. He avoided all of her questions and instead made an effort to ready the parlor. His mother always liked to impress at these parties, and also make sure that nothing in the Manor reminded people of what once were. 

Draco had been surprised, pleasantly so, when she started to use more colors in her decoration. Flowers and charmed little butterflies fluttering around the guests. It felt a little strange to learn that his mother was so playful and light once she finally broke free of her prejudice and worked to put the past behind her. It had taken years, but it had happened nonetheless. 

“Draco, dear. Will Harry be joining us?”

“Yes. I was about to go home to see if he made it back in time.” He assured her. 

 

Once back in their home it was quiet and exactly how Draco left it. Not that he was surprised. They’d left things on very uncertain terms and Harry might have promised to come, but that didn’t mean he would come happily.   
Giving Harry a chance to appear, Draco headed for the shower. He spent a little too much time on his hair and padded into their bedroom to find his clothes. 

Their fireplace chimed. Draco’s heart sank. The only one with access to their bedroom fireplace were Harry, and himself of course. He turned around slowly to face him. Wearing only a pair of emerald pants. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as he let his eyes run over Draco’s exposed body. He felt a sudden need to cover himself, instead he squared his shoulders. 

“You’re not coming home, are you?”

“I am. But a little later than I anticipated.”

“Sure you’re not doing this so you won’t have to attend the party?” Draco asked, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Draco, I’m not. I told you I will be there, so I will. There is something I need to clear up first. I’ll meet you at the party, alright?” He said, sounding every bit the persuasive and innocent guy he’d always come across as. 

Draco sighed and let his arms down by his sides. He muttered something in response and said he needed to get ready. There was a long silence behind him before the telltale rustling in the fireplace told him Harry was gone. 

He refused to let this get him down. He dressed in dark gray clothing, tight trousers and a perfectly fitted blue robe hanging over his shoulders. He looked great, he knew he did. Draco took a few deep breaths and made his way back to the Manor. 

Narcissa didn’t ask where Harry was and Draco didn’t explain. Instead he waited by the bar as people started to arrive. He had a glass of wine, then a tumbler of firewhiskey. He knew he probably shouldn’t be drinking since he’d barely eaten anything all day, but the stupid situation with Harry was wearing him down. 

Pansy made her way over to him, only to make him feel even worse. She teased him about his drinking and his very very noticeable sexual frustration. 

“Am not!” He insisted. 

“I know you, Draco. You get all prissy, and wanting to fight whenever you get that tingly itch. You’re dying for someone to push you against a wall and have their way with you.”

Draco closed his eyes, trying his hardest not to imagine the picture Pansy painted. He did in fact have more self - control than that. Sex was not everything in a relationship. Sometimes there could be a while in between, and Draco could handle it. Even if it was unusual for them, Draco could handle it.

It did not matter that he woke in the mornings tangled up with Harry and still had to get up unsatisfied. It happened, and Draco did not leak any kind of sexual frustration for others to see. 

Pansy giggled as she swished away in her chiffon gown. Draco wondered if she knew he tried to kill her with his glare. Most likely.

“Hi there.” A deep voice next to Draco pulled his attention back to the present. 

He turned around and even had to look up to meet the eyes of the speaker.

“I might have overheard a certain conversation from the side here.” He began and Draco swallowed. 

His dark hair was messy and almost right. His eyes shone a lively blue and his mouth smiled teasingly. Draco couldn’t get over the fact that he had to look up at him. 

Draco knew he wasn’t the tallest there was, but he always had an inch or two on Harry. This made him feel a little tingly, as Pansy liked to call it. Or maybe it just was the firewhiskey. He could only hope it was. 

“Oh, yeah?” Draco asked. 

“I did. But I would have spoken to you anyway if Miss Parkinson hadn’t beaten me to it.” He announced. 

A hand came forward and Draco grabbed it on instinct. The guy was a Quidditch player. A famous and very attractive one. Draco had to remember to keep his cool. Once they let go of each other’s hands in greeting, Inias hand came to rest behind Draco’s elbow. 

The guy deliberately flirted with him. Not at all shy and very clear on what he wanted. Draco gulped the last of his drink, and told the guy he were already seeing someone. In fact, they were in a relationship, living together. 

“I know you are.” He said calmly looking straight into Draco’s eyes. He couldn’t help but smile and look down as a pleased pink stained his cheeks. 

When he finally looked up again, he met a level stare from across the room. Harry looked slightly ruffled as always. He wore the clothes Draco had laid down for him on their bed, and he looked so handsome. Draco wouldn’t give him the upper hand so he lifted one eyebrow then he turned the attention back to the man next to him. 

Even if he continued to flirt harmlessly with Inias, Draco still kept an eye on Harry. He mingled with the guests, shook their hands, and laughed his patented Savior-grin making all of them swoon even more. Draco felt pride whenever he watched Harry work through the crowd like this. He might claim he hated it, but it still came naturally to him. 

Having Harry on the guest list always drew lots of people. Even ten years later. His fame hadn’t died down, not in the least, and they lived on a secret address and usually went out to eat at Muggle restaurants to get some peace and quiet. 

Draco accepted another glass of wine from his new friend and eventually also got up to dance. Harry were already on the floor, dancing with Pansy. Somehow the two of them had forged an unlikely friendship. She had the address to their home and visited frequently. Even sometimes while Draco were out. 

Neither of them spoke about it, but Draco knew something had gone down between them. Pansy must have apologized and somehow that had turned into bonding over their love for breakfast. 

It was the craziest thing. Draco never anticipated it when Pansy tentatively started to spend time with them. One morning she was downstairs making breakfast side by side with Harry while Draco still lay in bed recovering. 

 

Harry eventually seemed to get tired of looking in the other direction and when they were done dancing he followed Draco to the bar. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” His voice close to his ear, and Draco felt a familiar rush run down his spine. 

“Not really.” He lifted his glass to have a sip and Harry followed his movements. 

“I think it’s time we headed home.”

“No way! We are barely started.” Draco insisted. 

Harry quietly sat down on the stool next to his, asking for a beer. The silence were nothing short of awkward and when Inias decided to join them Draco barely avoided rolling his eyes. 

Nothing happened, surprisingly enough. Inias chatted with Draco as if Harry didn’t sit there behind him, and Harry acted as if he weren’t there either. 

One drink turned into a couple more, until Draco felt his buzz turned into a very much uncontrollable drunken feeling. He turned around, supporting his weight on Harry who looked up at him. 

“You ready to go home?” He asked. The tiredness in his eyes tugging at something inside Draco. 

No matter how bad things were between them Harry would be there for him, Draco trusted him. And there was nothing worse than being out in public acting stupidly drunk. Draco hated it, losing control and act so gracelessly. So Harry was there, he would protect him from his own stupidity, and then he would take him to the safety of their home. 

Harry flooed them to their bedroom and dumped Draco on their bed. Then he shed his robe pulled off his trousers and loosened his shirt before heading for the door. 

“I’m making tea.” He announced and a moment later Draco listened to the sound of his bare feet padding down the stairs. 

Draco sighed. His head spinning as he started to undress. It took some time and he finally made his way to the bathroom where he found a bottle of hangover cure. It always left him feeling strange, but nothing a little bit of tea couldn’t solve. 

Harry sat by their kitchen island, stirring the tea absently with a flick of his hand. When Draco entered he filled his cup but otherwise acted like nothing. A copy of the Prophet lay open in front of him, but he didn’t read it. 

“Thank you.” Draco said. 

“Yeah.” Harry nodded slowly without looking up. 

Draco wasn’t sure what he thanked him for. Being at the party? For helping him home? The tea? It just felt like it needed to be said. 

“So now you don’t care anymore if someone flirts with me?” Draco couldn’t help but ask. His cup was almost empty. Harry stood by the sink, rinsing his own even if he could just use magic. Harry had always been strange like that. He placed his hands on the sink and let his head fall down in a picture of defeat. 

“We’ve been together for four years.” Harry said and Draco’s heart made an unpleasant plunge. 

He’d felt like this in the beginning. Uncertain and afraid it was all too good to be true. How could Harry, The Boy Who Lived, want to be with him? Draco always knew he was luckier than he deserved. And even if he had stopped believing their relationship would end just like that, a part of him would sometimes poke at some hidden dark place inside, to remind him of his insecurities. 

“I know.” 

“So if you choose to flirt with another man, I can either act like an insecure boy in love. Or I can choose to trust you, to be there and take you home when you need it.” Harry’s low voice sounded loud in their quiet kitchen. 

Draco stared at his broad back, looking as tired as he felt and tears welled up in his eyes. He wanted to step closer, to put his arms around him. Any other day he would. But something about their fighting lately made it difficult to reach out. 

A strangled sound forced its way past Draco’s lips and Harry let out an answering wrecked sound.

 

***************

 

When Draco woke up the next day Harry was gone. Their bathroom mirror informed him he needed to do something with the bags under his eyes and entering downstairs the usually vicious owl waited. 

Every other Friday, Draco and Harry had a standing date with Hermoine and Ron. Harry rolled his eyes at this but never commented. He knew Hermoine and also, from time to time they had actually needed that date. Especially after Hermoine and Ron became parents.

Normally they would see each other more than just every other Friday. Pretty much every Sunday were brunch at the Burrow, but sometimes. When work got out of hand or life just got in the way, they hadn’t seen each other in those two weeks. She had demanded they made it a priority, once when it took six weeks for them to meet up. 

Draco bit his lip, but sent the owl back with a confirmation that they would be there tonight. 

 

Harry came home surprisingly early that day. He carried bags of groceries and looked as tired as Draco felt. Perhaps he had gotten a reprimand from the mirror that morning too.  
He greeted Draco with a peck on his cheek before starting to unload the bags. Draco felt a warm little ember of hope in his chest.

“You do know we are supposed to meet with your gang in an hour?” Draco asked carefully when Harry started to pick out the ingredients for a salad. 

“What? Is that tonight?” He turned around with his eyes wide. Draco nodded in the direction of Hermoine’s letter. 

“One night, one fucking night I make it home before seven, and we have to go out.” 

With an annoyed flick of his wand he sent the vegetables flying back into the fridge. Then he rushed upstairs leaving Draco to feel like he were the one to blame. And maybe he was. He could have told Hermoine they were unable to meet tonight. It wasn’t like they absolutely needed to meet if they couldn’t make it.

When Harry came back down he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a nice shirt. Draco wanted to wipe away the tight look on his face, but instead steeled himself for a long and miserable evening. 

Their discomfort was obvious. It was so bad that once the dessert was gone Ron swore under his breath and leaned forward.

“Whatever is going on, I’m not even going to ask, you two need to get a grip. This is not fun. Come on Hermoine, we’re out of here.”

Harry flexed his jaw but stared at his friend with deep dark eyes. Hermoine gave them each a hug. 

“But he is right. And if you don’t fix it you know I will come asking.” She shrugged apologetically. Harry huffed a laugh. 

Harry shot up from his chair once they were gone. 

“Let’s go out.” He said. 

“Out?”

“Yes. Find a club, have some drinks. Loosen up a little.”

Draco smiled. They hadn’t done that in ages. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to. But time could be a tricky thing, especially when you were dating the Savior. It was no easy task. 

 

The club was packed. Friday night’s usually were. They made their way to the bar and ordered a few drinks. It seemed that some kind of unspoken truce had been laid out for the night, and Draco would take it. Loosening up felt like a good idea. 

At least to begin with. Harry dragged him out on the floor to dance. For each drink, their dancing became closer, with more intent. Draco’s head was spinning, perfectly buzzed. His body humming with the attention, and the anticipation. The warmth inside his body made him feel reckless and content. 

Harry’s strong arms kept him close. Nobody would even call it dancing, what they did, anymore. Draco couldn’t even care that he were grinding his half hard cock against Harry’s right there in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by Muggles. 

Somebody told them to just get out of there so Harry pulled him outside and found a back alley. They were too drunk, and probably shouldn’t apparate. Harry did anyway. Harry always did what he wanted. Every rule in this vast universe applied to everyone, except the Golden Boy. Sometimes Draco hated him for it. 

Harry’s apparation was a little off. They ended up on the street one block from their home. It didn’t matter. They part jogged, part skipped, the rest of the way buzzed and uncaring. As soon as they were behind closed doors Harry pushed him hard against the wall. Draco let out a huff of air but easily let his head fall back to give Harry more room. 

Slowly but surely they made their way to the second floor. Clothes fell like little puddles around them and Harry scrambled onto their bed. 

“Come on, Draco. I want to suck you.” He slurred huskily. 

Draco swallowed and gave a nod. Harry rested with his head propped up on a pillow. His legs relaxed outwards, revealing most of him. His hard cock straightened up from a patch of dark hair, reaching up toward his navel. 

Fuck, but Draco had missed this. 

Over the years Harry had grown into his body. His job required he kept his physique impeccable and he really did look great. His shoulders looked wider, his hips narrow and his chest covered in dark hairs. A few scars, which all held a unique story, could be seen on his shoulders, arms or chest and stomach. Draco had learned about each one and he loved this man. He really did.

But he had really missed this. He could love Harry all he wanted, but he needed this physical connection regularly. He needed it to feel safe, to feel good and just because he liked it. 

“Up here.” Harry rasped. 

He motioned for Draco to come closer, to place his knees on each side of his head. Draco knew how this would go and he was already almost shaking in anticipation. 

Whenever they went out to drink more than just a few glasses of wine, Harry acted needy and demanding at the same time. Right now he pulled Draco closer, with his eyes firmly on his cock. 

He made a few tentative strokes before he leaned forward and licked with a broad tongue around the head. Draco groaned loud and just barely avoided snapping his hips forward in a desperate thrust. 

It felt like he hadn’t been touched in weeks and weeks. In reality it was just over one week. Still when Harry did it again Draco shuddered and gripped the headboard harder. Harry sucked just the head into his mouth, wet and filthy. His eyes came up to look at Draco and he let out a long breath. 

Those green eyes had always pulled Draco in, ever since they were eleven years old. Here, in bed, under him, it always had the desired effect. He couldn’t help it and pushed forward just a little. Harry’s eyes glinted in a wicked grin, the little shit knew what he was doing. So Draco did it again. 

“Oh fuck yeah.” Harry pulled away just long enough to say that, then dove back in. 

Draco took that as permission and started a slow rhythm. He watched as Harry’s lips stretched to accommodate the width of his cock for each push forward. Once Draco stopped at the back of his throat Harry’s mouth stretched obscenely but he didn’t pull back. Draco stared down into those eyes and Harry stared back. 

Then he swallowed and worked to open up enough for Draco to ease forward. A desperate whimper escaped him as he felt the tightening around him. 

“Merlin.” He breathed and a hand came down to push into Harry’s rich hair. 

Draco pulled back slightly and Harry looked like he wanted to follow, but he needed the air and gasped desperately.

“Draco, don’t stop.” His voice was already wrecked to hell and Draco had to grip around his shaft to steady himself. 

“I won’t.” He promised. 

“Then fuck me like I know you want to.” Harry insisted. 

Draco closed his eyes but leaned back in, Harry’s lips already opening to welcome him. Wet, tight heat enveloped him and it took all his restraint not to push in all at once. Meeting the back of Harry’s throat he pulled back out and he carefully started a rhythm. Harry’s hands tightened around his buttocks, making way to Draco’s entrance.

Draco pushed in as far as he got, felt how Harry worked around his gag reflex to take him in all the way, before pulling back out. Draco started a steady pace and Harry let out a moan. Harry loved this, he always had. And Draco really really loved that he liked it so much. 

It was getting too much, too fast. He wanted to keep going, but the wet heat along with Harry’s fingers seeking around his entrance made it difficult. The alcohol in his system had his blood pumping and his limbs feeling strong but also a little rubbery. It felt incredible to give into that cloudy sensation. His thrusts faltered, turned uncoordinated and his breath came in desperate huffs. 

“Harry… Gonna come.” Draco groaned. Green eyes snapped up to his, eager and dazed with lust. Draco snapped his hips forward, too hard he knew, Harry would have to hurt but he never complained. Instead he made an effort to open up even more, giving way for Draco and when one finger entered him he let out a strangled shout as he came down Harry’s expert throat. 

When he came back too, Harry brushed warm fingers over his hips, his eyes blown wide and there was a single dribble of come on the side of his lips. His hair an absolute mess and Draco reveled in the sight he made. 

Draco leaned down to kiss away the evidence of him and Harry gave a lazy smile. 

Dropping down on the pillow Draco closed his eyes and immediately felt bone tired. The tension of the last couple of days had taken its toll. The alcohol was also weighing him down now that the adrenaline had started to ebb away. Add an amazing orgasm to the equation and he would not be able to move until morning. 

The next thing he knew someone shook his shoulder.

“What? What!?”

“You fell asleep.” 

“Yes, because it’s night and I’m tired.” Draco huffed in annoyance. 

“Oh really? You don’t say.”

Draco thought about it because it sounded like Harry was trying to say something. His sleep addled brain couldn’t come up with anything. 

“Go to sleep, Harry.”

Silence. 

Then there was ruffling in the sheets as Harry got up. 

“You selfish bastard.” Was muttered into the room before the door clicked shut. 

Draco tried to engage, to open his eyes and see what was going on. In the back of his mind there was something, but he was too far gone to work it out. His eyes stayed shut and as he heard the shower start he already drifting into sleep. 

 

Waking up the next morning Draco rolled over to his side only to find that the space next to him empty and cold. With a feeling of foreboding he got up and entered the bathroom. The mirror greeted him with a comment about the sounds it had heard last night. Draco glared at it. 

Sometimes he could swear that the mirror and Pansy were one and the same. He hoped for Merlin’s sake they weren’t. 

The place was quiet so when Draco came downstairs it was no surprise to find a note from Harry letting him know he’d be out for a while. 

Draco sighed and made an effort to brew a cup of tea. So things weren’t better then. In his mind he had hoped that letting loose a little last night would make things easier, that they at least would talk. 

 

From the start of their relationship Saturdays had been their day. 

The first time Draco spent the night at Harry’s place he had woken up Saturday morning to the smell of bacon, scrambled eggs and pancakes. Harry had gone all out, but it didn’t matter, because they sat by the table for hours. Talked and ate, drank tea, laughed, ate some more until so much time had passed they were both a little stunned. 

Ever since then Saturday mornings were sacred to them. Fridays meant workday and Sundays they usually slept in and went straight to the Burrow for brunch, or in their case, breakfast. That left Saturdays as a chance to have some quiet time alone. And Draco more often than not felt like an old man for thinking of it like that, but he liked it. The comfort and warmth of domesticity. 

Harry cooked, music playing, they shared the papers and sometimes they talked. Other times they sat quietly, each in their own minds a bit, but always together. Draco would hook his foot around Harry’s ankle or they brushed hands from time to time.

Draco knew that he couldn’t force Harry to stay in or to report everything back to him. Lately since everything had felt so difficult and fragile this felt like yet another blow, he had to admit. 

There weren’t a lot of places Harry would go. Draco guessed he went over to George to help him with his new house. He had thought they would go there together after breakfast but decided he would visit his mother instead. No need for him to sit around at home feeling like a forgotten house wife. 

 

Narcissa sat in her winter garden looking at pictures and Draco stood in the doorway watching her for a moment. Her hair flooded across her shoulders. It was her pride and Draco felt so lucky when he got the chance to brush it on a rare occasion when he was a child. His father didn’t like it of course, it being such a ‘girly’ thing to do. It was still one of Draco’s favorite memories since it always brought him closer to his mother. 

She held up a picture of herself and her sisters, running around the garden. For a moment she covered the image of Bellatrix, but then she let her hand fall back into her lap. 

“Mother.” Draco said after a while. 

Narcissa turned around a little confused. 

“Draco, is everything alright?”

He smiled and assured her he just wanted to check in. She watched him carefully as he made his way over and sat down. 

For a while they looked at the pictures in silence. Most of them from Narcissa’s childhood. Draco had seen them before, but that was a long time ago. 

“I am sorting through them. Picking out some that I like.” She smiled at a picture of her and Andromeda embracing in a hug just before letting go and share a smile of sisterly affection. Draco had never seen his mother show that kind of unrestrained love for anyone. Not even to him. 

Tea arrived along with a platter of cheese. When Narcissa poured his cup and met his eyes Draco knew he hadn’t fooled her for a second. 

“Now, tell me, dear. What is making you look so troubled?” 

Her tenderness almost had him blurting it all. She had that effect on him, and he never really stood a chance keeping secrets growing up. Now, that he were an adult, and someone else had such an important place in his life it was only natural that they were the first he came to for comfort. Unless they were the reason for his troubles, it seemed. 

“It’s nothing much. I needed some time to think.” He tried. 

Narcissa nodded like she understood. Her elegant fingers gripped the fork and poked a cube of cheese. 

“Mother. Stop it. All there is, is a bit of a rough phase or something. I do not wish to share too much.” Draco tried. 

Half an hour later he stopped to take a steadying breath, staring desperately at his mother. He had shared too much, of course he had. 

“He’s going to leave me, isn’t he?” Draco asked. 

“Of course not. He loves you very much.”

He shook his head and stared out the window. He knew he had pushed Harry too far when he deliberately avoided Draco like he had for a few days now. He swallowed hard. 

“Draco, listen to me. Every year, around the anniversary for the Final Battle Harry gets this look about him. He talks less, his eyes wide, but not expressing the life that we know he is full of.”

“I know.” Draco bowed his head. 

“Now, we all mourn in our own ways. This year is hard on the ones who were closest to it all. We are constantly reminded of the sacrifices made, the ones we lost.”

Draco took a deep breath. Harry had been at the very heart of the war. Everybody knew that. People expected him to stand up in front of everyone and celebrate, to share the joy of being free, of having won. Only, Harry never asked for it. He told Draco time and time again how much he hated those parties or fundraisers or obligations he were burdened with. 

Before, Draco used to think that the Golden Boy loved his fame, that he would do anything to keep it. He learned quickly that Harry sought anonymity, quiet and peace more than anyone. Still, Draco had his own way to deal with everything, and he had somehow chosen to overlook what it cost Harry to be at these parties. 

Draco had seen his share of pictures all over the media of Harry, his famous friendliness, his infectious smile which he gladly shared with anyone. When they slowly became friends Draco were suddenly one night hit with a new kind of smile. It was smaller, almost shy. His mouth looked softer and didn’t show as much of his teeth. Those green eyes looked warm and truly happy. Directed at him, at Draco. He’d gone home that night knowing he were so deep in that he would just have admit that his crush had grown into a lot more than that. 

Because the public might think Harry was the nicest and handsomest man around. They might demand a lot of him and they might think they all knew who he was. In reality nobody knew a thing. Being Harry’s friend or someone he loved, nobody had any idea how loyal and good this man really was. For everything he had been through, he was remarkably pure and vulnerable.   
Draco pushed a hand through his hair. 

“What do I do?” He asked.

 

****************

Narcissa had always made it clear she would never meddle in any relationship Draco entered. Apparently she had enough of that from her own mother in law. She was of no help, as she just advised him to ‘show him how much you love him’.

Draco headed home and had to face a quiet living room. Instead of moping around he started on some food and hoped Harry would be home before night. 

 

Harry came through the door at nine. He looked tired, but also fresh. Like he’d been outdoors for hours. Draco had already changed into his pajamas and the food had been sitting under a stasis charm for so long it had probably gone bad. 

“Hello.” Draco tried. 

A part of him wanted to yell, to shout and slam the doors for having been left alone all day without word from him. Were he going to follow his mother’s advice, it would most likely not be very fruitful. 

“Draco.” Harry said, and Draco had to watch his face go from unguarded and not exactly happy, but pleased, into a hard mask of tension. 

“I’ve some food ready if you are hungry.”

“Oh. I ate before I left. Angelina insisted.” He shrugged. 

“Well then.” Draco snapped and sent a spell toward the food to put it away. He turned around and stomped into the living room, knowing that Harry followed. 

So much for his mother’s shitty advice. 

“You haven’t been sitting around here all day waiting for me?” Harry asked. Sounding a little regretful. When Draco turned to face him he didn’t look it, though. 

“No. I have you know I too have things to do.”

“Right. Good, then.”

“I had not counted on you being gone the entire day, however.”

“You know how it is.”

“I do. And I thought we would go there together, after breakfast. But apparently you were in a hurry.”

Harry huffed. 

“Much like you were last night, you mean?” He looked at Draco through his wild hair. It was annoying. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You couldn’t finish fast enough so that you could get your precious sleep, and I hadn’t even finished, you bastard!” Harry raised his voice along with a slight coloring to his cheeks. 

Draco felt the blood drain from his own face. He’d known there was something. It was absolutely humiliating. 

“What?” He took a step back. 

Harry rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not even talking about this.” He turned to leave. 

“Yes, you are. You can’t accuse me of something like that and then walk away.”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you? Fine, you fucked me, and as soon as you finished you rolled over on your side and started snoring.”

“That’s not what happened.” Draco refused to believe it. 

“Don’t you think I know the last couple of weeks have been bad? I’ve missed having sex too, you idiot! It still didn’t make me selfish enough to just get what I wanted before falling asleep.”

“Okay, okay! You don’t have to tell me again. But in my defense I thought you had!”

“You didn’t even touch me!” Harry roared. 

Draco took a step back, staring at Harry. 

“What do you call what we did then?” 

Harry shook his head. 

“Tell me this, do you even remember whether I got undressed or not?” Harry challenged. Draco’s mind desperately tried to recollect the memories of last night. It was a bit of a blur, but he remembered. He knew what they did and he knew it had been good. For both of them. Draco wasn’t a selfish lover, he wasn’t!

“Fuck you, Draco. Fuck you and your bloody selfish ass!” Harry told him before walking stiffly toward the stairs. 

“I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.” He announced cooly. 

Draco cursed under his breath. He’d been so caught up on himself and his desperation of finally, finally having Harry beneath him, that he had been the most selfish lover in existence. A shameful heat bubbled under the surface and he wanted to run after Harry. To apologize, to do anything. 

This wasn’t the time. He had to give him some space, then in the morning they would just have to bite the bullet and talk. 

 

Harry was not in the mood to talk the next day. Draco had slept badly and when he heard the shower running and then the sound of Harry’s steps down the stairs he shot out of bed. Afraid he might leave him alone yet again.   
Instead Draco stood in the doorway in one of Harry’s old t-shirts watching him pull out ingredients for breakfast with deliberate movements. He started mixing egg and flour together for a pancake batter. Draco decided he couldn’t just stand there so he started making tea. Falling into the familiar rhythm of their morning rituals. 

“Harry. We need to talk about this.” 

For a long moment Harry just kept stirring and mixing in the bowl. He put it down and shrugged a little. 

“Fine. I don’t know what more there is to say.” He added and turned to check the heat on the pan. He slowly started to fill it with perfectly round pancakes. Draco bit the inside of his lip. 

“Well, first of all I’d like to apologize for the other night. I really did believe we were both having a good time.”

“We did, Draco, but it would have liked a little bit of… reciprocating!” Harry huffed.

Both of them tensed when the floo roared to life and Pansy rushed through, hair wild and bags under her eyes. She looked like she’d had the night of her life. She stopped short and stared between them. Harry immediately lowered the spatula he’d just pointed at Draco and turned to the stove.

“Pans, I’m sorry. But now is not a good time.”

She folded her arms across her chest. 

“What kind of hospitality do you call that?” She demanded. 

“No kind. Just… Would you mind coming back later?” Draco tried instead. 

Pansy looked between them with a concerned look on her face all of a sudden. Draco felt bad to have ruined her good spirit.

“But… pancakes.” She tried weakly. 

Harry levitated a plate in her direction. 

“Have these.” He told her quietly. 

Pansy stared at the side of his face. Harry hadn’t even looked at her. She thanked him in a subdued tone before backing out of there. 

After Pansy’s interruption their morning went by in a hushed tense, kind of way. They read their papers, looked at case files and ate their food. Neither seemed to want to pick the conversation back up again and Draco wondered what that said about them.

When time came they got ready for brunch at the Burrow and Draco stopped in the bedroom looking at Harry. 

“How do you want to play this?” He asked. 

“What do you mean?”

Draco stared at this shadow of a man. 

“I mean, I have been on the receiving end of Ron’s threats before, and I know he makes good on his promises.”

“Yes. I guess. Then we try and act like we made up and they won’t bother us.” Harry said simply. 

Draco wanted to rip his hair out. He’d seen Harry ‘act’ before. He seemed physically unable to convey anything besides the truth. Sure, he tried to hide injuries or fights from the Weasleys before. And usually they looked the other way and decided to let him think he fooled them. They still worried, and always got it out of him somehow. 

This would be worse. Because they were worse. Their fighting sat between them like something tangible. Nobody would be fooled. 

 

Just as Draco suspected, Molly watched them closely from the second they stepped into her home. It didn’t matter that Harry hugged her as tight as he always did, or that Draco kissed her cheeks. It didn’t matter that when they walked in to the sitting room Harry placed a hand at his back, just like he would do any other day. Hermoine and Ron took one look at them and then at each other. 

To his surprise though, nobody asked or said anything about it. They chatted and played games. Rose came to sit in Draco’s lap to read books and Harry hugged her from the side. His hair brushing under Draco’s nose.   
Harry didn’t eat enough at the table and Molly asked if they wanted her to put away something for them to bring home. She always did anyway, she never asked. Harry nodded a little distracted at that. 

After when everybody sat in the living room Ron stretched with an undignified yawn. Sometimes Draco couldn’t believe he had become accustomed to that kind of behavior. 

“Harry, you ready to leave on Tuesday?” Ron asked. 

Draco felt Harry tense next to him, but that was nothing compared to the way his own heart froze. They were going away. Draco hated when they went away on a case. 

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be ready.” He promised. 

“Good. That’s good then. Robards asked us to bring the tent this time.”

Harry groaned. “Of course he did.”

Draco wanted to get up, to drag Harry all the way home and yell at him for hours. Instead he sat still, waiting for his turn. 

“We have to be back by the Gala anyway.” Ron said. 

The Gala. The party held at Hogwarts grounds were in three weeks. The celebration of a war won and lives saved. A celebration of all things Harry Potter. They could have called it ‘the Harry Potter Day’. 

“Yes, Harry I heard they were going to do fireworks like nobody have seen. I hope your speech is prepared.” Arthur chipped in. Draco could have punched him. 

“Isn’t it always?” Harry managed a smile and Draco leaned into him for a second. Harry didn’t move away. 

“Anyway, Gin. When are the Harpies playing in London?” Harry changed the subject. 

“We have a match here in two weeks. Why?”

“Well Teddy’s birthday is in a few days and I promised him we would take him to one of your games.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I could arrange for him to meet the team if you think he’d be interested.”

“Thank you, Gin. He would love you forever.” Harry promised. 

Draco smiled at her. It was true, they had talked about it. Teddy had come over to their place and stayed for the whole day. It felt so long ago, but it was really just two weeks back. 

The rest of the night the family spent in relative friendly company. It was a little tense even if most of them made an effort to cover it with small talk and teasing. Draco couldn’t get away from those concerned looks and that was even worse than questions and demands to fix things. It felt more serious, as if everybody thought that it was so bad they couldn’t meddle in it. 

 

Harry and Draco left earlier than they used to. Molly handed them a basket filled to the brim, ordering them to heat some of it that evening to make sure they ate enough. Then she gave each of them a tight hug before sending them on their way. 

Draco followed Harry into the kitchen. He silently started to unload the basket, probably just for something to do. 

“Were you really going to go away without even talking to me about it?” Draco started. 

“No. I weren’t. But lately I haven’t found the time to tell you.” Harry admitted. 

“But it’s on Tuesday, and by the sound of it you don’t even know for how long!”

Draco were already on edge, and he would remain so until Harry got back. He hated when he traveled for work. He was too far away, it was dangerous and his paranoia always convinced him that he had seen the last of Harry. 

“I know. It probably won’t be that long, though. A week tops.”

“What is it this time? Drugs? Homicide? Kidnapping?”

“Neither. It’s an area with mysterious disappearances.” Harry said and Draco dropped down on a stool. 

“And they are sending you out there, to sleep in a tent in an unstable area?”

“We’ll be at a safe distance, Draco. And we’re not alone. There are six of us going.” He sounded all too calm for Draco’s tastes. Sending six Aurors for one case just made it worse, because that meant it was serous. That it was dangerous and should not be handled by only a few men. 

“I don’t want you to go.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“That’s not true.” Draco knew he was selfish for asking this of Harry. He also knew that if Harry asked to sit this one out his boss would probably let him. Harry hadn’t missed a single day of work and he could be put on any other case. Draco also knew that Harry couldn’t resist mysteries or unsolved cases, or Ron, for that matter. 

“Be that as it may, I will have to go. Ron’s going and I can’t let him go alone. I have to. I just do.” He didn’t look happy about it, or excited like he had sometimes. Instead it felt like he tried convincing himself as much as Draco. 

 

Harry packed his things and had his bags ready by the door on Tuesday morning. They had breakfast as usual. Things at a halt between them. Harry had slept in their bed the last two nights, but they had barely spoken and not touched at all. Draco didn’t think he’d slept at all that night, and he was fairly certain Harry hadn’t either. 

After breakfast Harry got up from his chair. He watched Draco for a moment. 

“I’ll send a message each day to let you know I’m fine.”

“Better not. If you miss one day I’ll just go crazy wondering.” 

Harry swallowed. 

“Alright, not every day, but a few times, then.” He said quietly. Draco looked into those green unhappy eyes. It was almost like looking at the tired and worn out man he met five years ago. 

Harry took a deep breath, as if steeling himself before he rounded the table. Draco’s heart skipped a beat at the intent in Harry’s face. He placed one hand on his cheek, stroking a warm thumb gently over his skin. His eyes dropped to his lips and Draco swallowed. 

Harry’s eyes snapped up to his before he leaned in slowly. Their lips brushed and for a moment nothing happened. Both simply breathing in the other. Then Harry leaned in all the way, kissing him, gently first, then a little more insistent. Their tongues brushed and Harry pulled away. His forehead pressing against Draco’s. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

Draco felt cold when Harry stepped away, grabbed his things and left. It always felt like that. Harry had this warm aura with him, and when Draco were left alone, he couldn’t really feel warm enough. 

 

******************

Draco worked long hours. He visited his mother. Pansy came over for a chat, talking about this new bloke she were seeing. On Sunday he stayed at home even if Molly had told him he shouldn’t be shy about arriving without Harry.

One week passed. Harry had sent two owls. Both with tiny notes, scribbled in a hurry to let him know everything were fine. Draco clung to them, and he also resented Harry for making him into such a mess. Draco used to be a proud and untouchable person. These days nothing seemed to go past him without affecting him in the worst way possible. 

On Wednesday, one week and one day since Harry left, Draco sat in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames. He wore a pair of comfortable trousers and one of Harry’s old Gryffindor t-shirts. His hair messy, and he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning. A cup of tea rested in his lap, but it had gone cold before he really had a chance to drink it. 

When the floo flashed Draco sat up so fast the tea sloshed over and wet his trousers. He whispered a curse, but stared at the flames. He fell back against the pillows when Hermoine’s bushy head appeared. 

“May I come through?” She asked. 

Draco nodded numbly. His imagination spinning out of control. Hermoine had barely stepped on the rug and carefully put down a crib with a sleeping little girl when Draco shot questions at her. 

“Is everything alright? Did something happen to Harry?” He breathed and stared at her with wild eyes. 

“No, Draco. Relax, everything is fine. I just wanted to check in on you.” Her tone sounded so kind and so concerned that Draco sagged a little. 

He noticed how she took in his appearance, so he ran a hand through his hair to try and control it. Pretending he didn’t look pathetic in Gryffindor red.

“It’s late. I didn’t expect company.” He muttered. 

“Would you like some tea?” She asked. 

“I’m the one who should ask you that.” 

“No, no. Let me.” She insisted before disappearing into the kitchen. Draco contemplated going after her, but she did make really great tea, so he guessed it was alright. 

When he was positive Hermoine had reached the kitchen Draco carefully stepped closer to the crib. The little girl was loosely wrapped in a green blanket. Her curls as unruly as her mothers, and as red as her fathers. Draco would once have made a mean comment about the fact, but looking down at that little human, she just seemed so perfect. Sleeping quietly, not knowing a thing about what life would bring. 

Draco leaned down to carefully brush away a strand of hair tickling her nose. His fingers touched her cheek and she smiled in her sleep as he stroked it lightly. Nothing in this world felt as soft as a child’s face. He wondered absently what kind of father he would have made given the chance.

When he stood back up, Hermoine sat on the couch observing him. He felt his face heat. 

“She’s very beautiful sleeping like this.” He said. 

“As opposed to when she torments you while awake?” Hermoine asked, but there was a gentle smile on her face. 

“No. You have a good girl.” He told her and Hermoine’s face grew serious and soft at the acknowledgement. 

 

Draco knew they were going to talk about him and Harry. Hermoine had warned them and he also knew that even if she could seem annoyingly nosy, she also made the best at giving advice when it came to Harry. 

“Have you heard from him?”

Draco nodded but didn’t elaborate. Hermoine looked thoughtful. 

“Ron told me he looked awful. I mean, he always does this time of year, but…” She trailed off. 

Draco swallowed. 

“I know it’s terrible forward of me, but can I ask what happened?” She looked down into her lap. 

“Because you were both so happy. Harry couldn’t stop talking about you. You were the couple that everybody looked at, and one could actually see the love in your magic.”

Draco steeled himself. He could save emotions for later. 

“Well, what didn’t happen? It just all went wrong.” He said quietly. 

Hermoine waited and Draco sighed. He should just get it out and maybe she could help him fix this. Or tell him if he needed to start packing his things. 

“We argued about his job, about my mother, about the media circus, about sex, about staying in, about not staying in. The list goes on. I tried, because I know this time of year is the hardest. But you know how we are, when we start arguing nobody backs down.”

She nodded sympathetically. 

“When Harry is stressed he lashes out.”

“I know that. But so do I. We are good at a lot of things, but what we excel at, is fighting.” Draco huffed. 

“What do you want to do?” Hermoine asked after a while. 

“I want… I want this fighting to end, I want Harry to feel safe and good about what he does. And I want… To be there with him.” Draco finished as his voice broke and he turned his face away from Hermoine. 

A warm sure hand covered his and Draco turned his to squeeze it gratefully. 

“Draco. You’ll figure it out. Together.”

He took a deep steadying breath. 

“I’m not so sure about that. It feels like too much this time. I don’t think he is happy with me anymore.” He whispered. 

“Don’t say that. I know how much you mean to Harry. This has to be because of something else.” 

Draco ran a hand across his face and when he let it fall back into his lap it was moist from traitorous tears. Hermoine squeezed him once in a tight hug. 

“Listen to me. I know he is difficult sometimes. Too stubborn and also too noble for his own good. He just needs a reminder sometimes.” 

“This isn’t his fault. I am the one who pushed him too far.”

She told him gently that they all did at times. It wasn’t a good enough reason to give up. 

“When Ron and I have a particularly bad fight, we try to stop and take time to communicate. Make some food, close the floo and sit down to talk about things. If you both want it to work, neither will leave until you agree on at least that.” She sounded confident. 

Draco wanted to believe her, he really did, but he also doubted that Hermoine and Ron could even fight like him and Harry. 

“When are they coming back?” He asked after a while. 

“Tomorrow.” She told him quietly. His heart clenched. Harry hadn’t even bothered to tell him that. 

 

Draco wasn’t sure when Harry would be back, so he went on with his day, holed up in his room surrounded by cursed objects. He was working on a little flute, which was made to lure men to their deaths. It was all very mythically inspired and Draco wanted to roll his eyes at the lack of creativity. People could at least figure out some new stuff, something fun, or at least fun for him to break. These kind of things he could do with his eyes closed. 

Maybe that was a good thing. He had enough to think about. Eventually he had decided to go for Hermoine’s advice and make some food. There were already a steak on slow roast in the kitchen and he had even made an effort to make dessert. 

Harry was the one with the most skill in the kitchen, but after a few years on his own, Draco was a decent cook too. 

He was deep into his work when someone knocked on his door. He carefully placed the item back on the table, removed a few protective spells before opening the door. Draco steadied himself on the doorknob.   
Harry looked terrible. Tired and pale, his hair unusually wild and his eyes almost dead behind his glasses. 

“Harry.” He breathed. 

“Hi.” He said, then looked at the floor. 

“You’re back. Are you in one peace?” He tried. Harry nodded, his eyes not coming up any further than his chest. 

“That’s good. Are you hungry?” 

“I’m very tired. Thought I might sleep for a bit.”

“Of course, we can wait with the food.” Draco nodded. 

“Sure. I wanted to let you know I was back. You can get back to your work now.” Harry acted as if on autopilot. He turned around slowly and made his way toward the stairs. 

Draco wanted to ask if something happened. If he needed to talk. The set of Harry’s shoulders told him not to. Instead he closed his work room and headed for the kitchen. Working on cursed objects while distracted could be fatal, even with the simple curses. 

After an hour Draco made a large glass of warm lemonade. The recipe one of his own, including a pepper up potion. He headed up the stairs and carefully pushed open the door to their bedroom. 

Harry had showered before going to sleep. He lay sprawled on his stomach, breathing deeply. The sheets covering him entirely apart from one bare foot and the top of his head. Draco sat the glass down on the bedside table and watched the sleeping man. 

They were still young. Not even thirty. Yet, life had made them go through so much. They both had scars, physically and mentally, marking them forever. 

For the last four years, Harry had been his, and Draco had been Harry’s. They had lived together for three years, and his life with Harry had been the best he had ever lived. The scars were no longer defining him and he felt complete in a way he never thought he would ever be. 

It wasn’t perfect, of course not, nobody had a perfect life, but it was safe and full. 

Harry looked peaceful where he lay sleeping. Draco reached out a hand to card through those unruly strands. Harry let out a quiet sigh, nodding his head a little as if settling even more comfortable into the pillow. 

 

Draco waited for another hour before Harry showed his face downstairs. He carried an empty lemonade glass and he nodded a thank you to Draco. 

“Are you hungry?” Draco asked. 

Harry nodded grateful and sat down by the table with a yawn. He sat there watching while Draco finished dinner. He had roasted vegetables along with the steak and rice. It wasn’t anything special, but it was good and also some of Harry’s favorites. 

By the time they had eaten most of it, Harry had told him in short words about the case. Nothing special, but someone had created a wormhole to catch unsuspecting people. This wormhole was a way of experimenting with portkey magic, finding a way to travel far and wide without having to use an actual portkey. According to Harry the experimenting hadn’t led to any positive results. Meaning there had been too many casualties, which also meant Harry felt the weight of more people lost. 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Harry said while they were cleaning up. 

“What?” Draco turned to him. His hands gripping the cutlery so hard he hurt. 

“Yeah, I thought I could, but… things has just progressed too far and I am not comfortable with it anymore.” He added quietly not looking directly at Draco. 

“So you are just going to stop? To… walk away from it?” Draco whispered. He could barely hear anything, blood rushing through his ears and he struggled to keep breathing evenly. The heartbeats ripping through his being, breaking his heart further with every beat. 

“I guess. I have been thinking about it for a while, but… I’m sure people will understand?”

“People…? You care more about what people might think than-?” He stared in disbelief at Harry. His heart hurt so much it felt like a hammer pounding away inside his chest. 

“Yes, well. Just because they don’t expect it.” Harry tried. 

Draco felt how his magic just rushed through him as he lifted his wand and sent a tea cup flying across the room and smashing against the wall. He then spun around and headed for the living room. Harry followed closely after. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You care more about what ‘other people’ might think, than what I feel?” Draco asked dangerously low. 

“Of course not.” Harry began. 

“But you just said-!” Draco didn’t get a chance to continue as Harry sent a vase straight onto the floor breaking into million pieces, leaving a bouquet of flowers in a sad puddle in the middle. 

“I assumed you knew, Draco. It’s not like we go around making sure all the time!” Harry huffed. 

After that the arguments and the flying inventory became almost like a competition. Draco screamed obscenities just as he sent half the books in their book shelf rushing onto the carpet. It looked like a delicious mess, and so he took the other half as well. 

Both looked almost crazy in their attempt to up the other. 

Harry ranted about being forced into doing everything because the public expected him to. Draco yelled that’s what he’d been trying to say for years and Harry insisted that he couldn’t just do as he pleased all the time. He then worked himself up so badly he lifted most of the chairs and tables in the room and sent it crashing hard onto the floor. Making the foundation of the house shake with the impact.

The silence was deafening, the only sound heard was their heavy breathing as they stared bewildered at the other. Draco looked around him quickly, the entire room an absolute mess. They had thrown things before, they had a habit of breaking things when they got angry, but never this bad. It looked like there had been a real fight, a duel. 

Draco opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again as he stepped over the remains of a little coffee table and walked out of there. 

 

Upstairs in their room he paced back and forth, forcing his breathing under control. He would not break. Not yet, not in front of Harry. He needed to be in control and alone he could do whatever he damn pleased. 

When the door opened a moment later he stopped short with his back to Harry. 

“Draco?”

Draco schooled his face into a mask of control and indifference before turning around. 

“What happened?” Harry asked. 

“What happened.” Draco breathed. Harry took a step closer. 

“I don’t understand.” He continued. 

“Of course not. How could you? Not when it looks like any other day to you, standing there saying these last four years is – “ Draco choked on a breath and needed to stop. He took a step closer to the door. 

“Is what?” Harry pressed. 

“You don’t want to do this anymore.” Draco didn’t recognize his voice. Tight and strange to his own ears. He took another step toward the door. He needed to get out of there. Just being in the same room hurt everything inside and he was afraid to lose it now. 

“Well, I haven’t for a while. But you knew that. I’ve told you before.” 

Draco swallowed. What was he supposed to say? How could he admit that this came as a surprise to him? Lately it seemed he had forgotten everything about keeping his eyes open around this man. He had barely noticed anything. 

“I didn’t.” He whispered, finally reaching the door. 

“You didn’t, what?” Harry asked, voice softer. Draco reached for the door knob, only to find it locked. Damn this man and his ability to do wandless magic. 

“Harry…” He said quietly.

“Draco, tell me.” Harry came closer, Draco could feel it. He pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the door, trying to remain calm. 

“Don’t make me say it. Please.” He begged in a broken voice. 

Harry stepped closer. Draco could feel his presence at his back. Familiar and warm, he wanted nothing more than to lean into it. Strong hands came to rest on his waist and Draco sucked in a sharp breath.

“Talk to me.” Harry demanded in a whisper into Draco’s hair. 

“You want to end this. To leave me.” He shivered in an effort to keep his emotions in check. 

“Never.” He sounded so calm. “Draco, you misunderstood.” Harry continued.

Draco didn’t want to turn around, but Harry’s hands tried to make him. He kept his face down, staring at the floor as his body turned to face Harry. 

 

***************

 

For a long moment neither of them moved. Harry still had his hands firmly planted on Draco’s hips, and they were both breathing a little heavier than normal. Draco tried to force his breathing under control when Harry’s hand slowly came up to his face and lifted his chin. 

Harry waited like that, a warm hand resting gently under Draco’s pointy chin. Draco raised his eyes to meet Harry’s green ones. He weren’t smiling, but he looked relaxed and maybe a little bit surprised. 

“You really thought I were leaving you?” He asked after a while. 

“How could I not? Everything has been so terrible lately, and it’s all because of me.” 

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes. I made you go to all of these parties, I don’t look out for you and I can’t even make sex good for you.” He huffed. 

Harry shrugged with a crooked smile. 

“It happens.”

Draco folded his arms across his chest. Not to him, it didn’t. He was an excellent lover. A truly good one, who gave as good as he got!

“Harry. I don’t understand.” Draco said confused. He didn’t know how to handle this development in their last couple of weeks full of fighting and uncertainty. 

Harry started pacing back and forth and Draco watched closely. Harry often did that when there was a lot he needed to get off his chest. 

“I’ve been tense and nervous about this year. And it’s only two weeks until the big event at Hogwarts. Everything is catching up a little too fast and I try and stay on top of everything. Then we start to fight and we just… we’re good at a lot of things, you and me, but fighting.” Harry shook his head as if exasperated and Draco wanted to smile, because that was exactly the same thing he had told Hermoine. 

“The bad thing about it is that even if we’re good at it, we’re not any good at handling it. We enjoy fighting, but when it gets too real it gets ugly too fast.” He finished.   
Harry took another few laps around their room. Apparently there were more he needed to talk about. Draco needed to know, though. 

“So what are you saying? I thought when you left to work away for the last week, that it was a sign things were about to end.” 

“It sort of was.”

“What?” Draco backed up a few steps, almost like he’d been punched in his gut. He wanted to bend over to protect himself and crawl into a tight ball. 

“Not between us. Hey, hey, Draco!” Harry came closer, but Draco stepped away. He couldn’t do this. 

“Draco. Not – Not us, never us. I just… I don’t want to be an Auror anymore.” He said in a rush.

Draco stared at him. Harry acted as if he were confessing to something bad he had done. 

“Why didn’t you just say so? Instead we have been fighting like crazy and made a mess of everything.” Draco was too stunned and strung up to let it all go. 

“I know. But I thought – I was not sure how everyone, or you, would take it.”

“You stupid git! I want you to be happy, Harry. I don’t care what you do. You have to tell me these things. I thought you – I thought you weren’t happy with me anymore.” 

Harry tried to cut in, but Draco didn’t let him. 

“You always do everything people ask of you. You don’t owe them all of you. Be happy! You’ve earned it, Harry. I don’t know why you are so ashamed of doing something for just –“

Draco suddenly slammed against the door so hard his breath left him in a whoosh. Harry was on him immediately. Lips moving hard and insistent. He coaxed Draco’s mouth to open and once their tongues connected Draco grabbed the back of Harry’s shirt in his fists. 

All of their desperation pouring into the kisses. Harry almost violently pushed Draco’s head to the side to get access to his neck and further down his chest. Draco groaned at the feel of Harry’s stubble scraping his delicate skin, and then his teeth sank into the side of his neck punching a shout out of him. At the same time his hips snapped forward and their erections pressed against each other. 

“Off, Draco. Get it off.” Harry panted. He was already ripping his own clothes off, leaving them in a mess around them. Draco hurriedly stepped out of his own and followed Harry’s lead to their bed. 

They were all over each other, rolling around, desperately trying to come closer. Their cocks rubbing against either the mattress, their hips or sometimes lined up. It was off kilter and with no finesse, but neither had the time.   
Harry finally straddled Draco’s hips in an effort to coordinate it some and as their cocks lined up Harry started to move his hips. Draco pushed his head back into the pillow, letting out little pants of breath. A moment later his head snapped up, he needed to see, to touch. His hands came down to Harry’s hips, helping him move and he took in the sight of him as Harry bit his lip, coming closer to the edge. 

Harry came first, but from the sensation as the warm spurts of come covered his stomach and chest, Draco released a long groan as he started to pulse and come too. 

Harry bent down to kiss him and for a moment he breathed in the crook of Draco’s neck. Their heartbeat slowed. 

“I need you to fuck me, Draco.” Harry said in a husky tone. 

Whatever calm satisfaction Draco had been falling into quickly banished. He rounded on Harry, made him fall down onto the bed as he started kissing a trail down his chest and stomach. 

“Come on.” Harry muttered. 

Draco gave a little smile. His own chest covered in their joined release and he took some in his hand and while keeping eye contact brought his hand down between Harry’s invitingly spread legs. 

Harry’s eyes darkened as he felt Draco rub small circles at his entrance, using their come as lube. As he slowly started to loosen up a bit around the rim, Draco summoned the actual lube and worked a little faster. 

He might be panting heavily and writhing slightly on the bed, but Harry kept asking him to hurry up. His prick already hardened again and Draco’s weren’t far behind. It was weeks ago since he last got to do this. 

Two fingers gently disappeared into Harry’s entrance. Draco watched in awe as he pulled them back out and lined up a third long finger and started to push inside. Harry hissed and then muttered a series of curses. 

“I’m good, Malfoy. I’m good. Do it.” He rasped. 

The use of his last name spurred Draco on. Harry rarely used it, only for situations like this where he forgot about time and place, lost in sensation and need. 

“I got you.” Draco promised as he lined himself up. 

It felt like coming home. The desperation and urgency from earlier had dimmed a little, and even if they were both eager to move, to feel and to re-connect it wasn’t in the same hurried way as before. As Draco slowly pushed all the way in he stopped, almost vibrating with the feeling of it all. 

“Draco, come on. I need – move. I need – just fuck me already.” Harry breathed out. His head turning to the side on the pillow and his back arched. He looked glorious. Draco loved him. 

When he started to move in a slow and deliberate rhythm Harry turned his head to look at him. One of his hands came up to hold onto his shoulder, the other on the side of his face. Their eyes locked and Draco let out a shuddering breath. 

For a moment time seemed to stand still. They searched each other’s faces, reaching out with their magic and as Draco started to feel the connection again, their breathing had picked up and they moved faster. 

His cock easily pushed inside the tight heat of Harry, and Draco groaned in pleasure. He set a steady rhythm. Watched and felt how his girth stretched and tugged at Harry’s rim. 

It was overwhelming. Harry pushed a hand into Draco’s hair and tugged him down into a kiss. 

“God, I’ve missed this.” He breathed into Draco’s mouth before kissing him again. Both sweating and Draco felt the beginning of a new orgasm building at the base of his belly. 

“You feel so good.” Draco grunted and picked up his pace. Hips snapped forward faster, with more intent and Harry let out a long moan as he met his hips for every push inward. 

Draco let his head fall down onto Harry’s shoulder as he finally let his instincts take full control. Their chests rubbed against each other and Harry gasped as his neglected cock finally got some friction between them. 

“Yeah, yeah. Fucking do it!” Harry panted and Draco had no intention of stopping. His bollocks already drawing tight and when Harry shuddered and gasped out his release Draco came close behind, with a muffled scream into the pillow. 

 

Draco sagged onto Harry’s form. His arms and legs shaking with exhaustion. Harry’s hands came to rest on his back and slowly stroked up and down. 

Draco could feel as the pulsing of his prick started to slow down and he moved his hips once, twice and felt the wet slide with the evidence of his release. Harry let out a quiet whimper so Draco kissed just beneath his ear and moved his hips once more before he slipped out.

“Merlin.” Harry muttered breathless. 

“Never do that again, Harry. Never let us get this out of control.” Draco whispered, breathing still elevated.

Draco rolled off his sturdy chest and onto the mattress. For a while he took in the sight of Harry all strung out, his prick now flaccid in a mess of come and dark hair. Draco wanted to kiss it, but he couldn’t be bothered to move. 

“Promise.” Harry whispered back. 

Draco grabbed Harry’s wand and performed a cleaning spell over them both and the bed. 

After, they lay next to each other, drifting in and out of sleep. Sometimes they would talk for a bit. Just nonsense really, but all a part of feeling connected again. 

Both stirred awake at the sound of voices downstairs. Draco sat up in alarm. 

“We forgot to close the floo!” He panicked. 

Harry pulled himself into sitting position with a little wince. Before any of them could speak two voices called their names with urgency and Draco jumped out of bed. 

“Get dressed or Pansy will burst into our room. That woman does not respect boundaries.” Draco started throwing shirts and sweatpants at Harry, while he struggled into his own at the same time. 

He looked at Harry all wreaked in their bed and he sent him a little grin. 

“Fuck off.” Harry muttered, but he smiled too. 

Their voices called again so Draco opened the door to let them know they would be down shortly. He heard their frantic talking and he could only imagine what they might think, coming through the floo only to find their living room in ruins. 

Draco walked in front of Harry and as they entered the living room, Hermoine and Pansy rushed forward. Ron stood by the fireplace still, looking shocked at the mess. 

“Are you alright? Harry, what happened here? I thought you were attacked.”

“We were.” Harry said. 

“What?” Hermoine squealed. Pansy furrowed his brows as she took them in. 

“You did this, didn’t you?” She asked. 

Draco shifted a little and tried to control his hair. He knew he must look absolutely out of control. Hermoine stared from Pansy to the two men in front of her. 

“Did you?” Her tone almost as unyielding as Narcissa’s used to be when Draco had been naughty as a child. 

“Uh… Well.” Harry cleared his voice. 

“What’s the matter with you two? Can’t you argue like normal people?”

“Now, where is the fun in that.” Harry tried. 

She huffed in annoyance. 

“We were scared. Neither of you answered so we came here and found this!” She continued. 

Pansy sent a spell toward one of their chairs and sat down gracefully. 

“I do believe you two need to work on your foreplay a little bit. There is no need for it to be quite this violent.” She commented dryly. 

Hermoine stared at them before her eyes dropped to the bruise on Draco’s neck. Her face turned red and Harry chuckled. 

“Well, that is true, but you are friends again now, right?” Ron finally came closer looking intently at them both. 

Harry sent a glance in Draco’s direction then nodded to his friend. 

“Yes, we’re better at least.”

“Alright, mate. Then I’m off. You better clean up this mess, I’m not helping.” He said before disappearing. 

 

Later they stood in the kitchen, having seen Pansy and Hermoine away. They’d made tea and talked about the looks on their friend’s faces. 

Draco rinsed his cup and placed it in the sink and turned to face Harry. He looked tired still, but happier, more alive and a tad more relaxed.

“What now?” He asked. 

Harry shrugged. 

“We should clean up the living room.” Draco continued and looked into the room they had destroyed. Harry hummed in response and came closer. 

“Or… We could close the floo and… you know, see what happens.” He whispered into the crook of Draco’s neck. He felt so warm and content as his arms came up to close around Harry.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel incredibly insecure about posting a HP fic. I have read quite a few and I am impressed at the well written stories out there, both the plots and the level of vocabulary and word magic. My language lacks , I know, but i hope it's not too annoying and that someone might enjoy this anyway.   
> Feel free to kudos or comment. 
> 
> :)


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